Way of the Cross
by n1ght3lf
Summary: Kenshin's thoughts on finding Tomoe gone


Way of the Cross

A work of Rurouni Kenshin fanfiction

Rurouni Kenshin created by Watsuki Nobuhiro. All rights reserved. I ask that you not do anything with any part of this work without permission.

Warning: MAJOR spoilers. This is set in the middle of the OAVs. If you know enough about Kenshin to like it, but don't know about what goes on in the OAVs, you may wish to skip this work.

* * *

Hot blood runs down my cheek, dripping onto the pristine white paper. The words they obscure scream at me; in a moment, everything becomes instantly clear - and, at the same time, as opaque as night. A strange emotion crystallizes within me, a low feeling too primal to put into words.

For the first time, I know my master was right. I was a fool, an idiot too stupid to see when he was being used. I thought everything was so clear-cut; the right side lived, the wrong side died. After this, things will never be so clear-cut again.

I... I was almost home - a normal home, just like everyone else had. I was almost free of the killing; here in this refuge, I could forget there was a revolution going on. I enjoyed the winter we spent here, just the two of us, a couple in every way save intimacy. We had built a life here - a life fabricated by the Ishin Shishi, as artificial as the slogans each side spouted.

That home - that safety - is no more. Justice for the people has just ceased to matter. Justice for what's happened here has become top priority.

The blade feels heavy in my hands, now; was it so long ago that I couldn't lift it? Master taught me the use of the blade, how to use it for what it was intended. I thought that was enough, that a blade and a purpose was all that was needed to make a difference.

It's not enough, anymore. I need a soul, too.

Killing was harder than I expected, at least while I had a conscience. I had to put that ideal self away for awhile, become a tool for the revolution - just as my master predicted. Then, once that was done, I could kill easily, without compunction or remorse. And kill I did - including, it seems, Tomoe's first love.

My ideal self is back, now, and for once I don't know who to kill. All I know is that someone - Shinsen Gumi, myself, Tomoe - will not live to see the next dawn.

***

Can you imagine the liberation that comes with letting go of life? All of a sudden, that mortality we go to extraordinary lengths to protect is on the gambler's table, a stroke of someone else's luck away from destruction. It's at points like this that we find out just how much our life is worth - how expensive, and how cheap.

I've let go. My hands are the steadiest they've ever been, now. My life is nothing; if they want it so badly, they can take it. But I will find out the truth before I leave. The gamble is set; all the lives are on the table. All that remains is to see who wins.

Tomoe... I never thought that the word would cause me such pain. They say she betrayed me, that she betrayed us. For some reason, my heart says no, even while my mind flashes back to her diary. Am I a fool? Yes. Am I a fool in this? I don't know.

But I will find out. I will not lose her. I don't know if what I feel for her is love; what I do know is that I would die before her. She is my sheath; she is what kept my humanity safe all through the long months in Kyoto. By sharing in my death, she kept me alive. Could someone in betrayal commit such a sacrifice?

I don't know. I find myself not knowing a lot, nowadays. I went into this war with blind innocence; I leave it with blind faith. There will be no war for me after tonight, no war save the one still raging inside of me.

And hopefully, after tonight, Tomoe can sheath my sword, and silence the screams of battle.

***

The glow of the morning sunrise greets my eyes; even after the hours, my eyes have yet to recover, blurring the dawn into a hazy glow. Not that I would want to see it; I didn't want to see the morning, not after what happened, and secretly hoped I'd been careless in my struggles.

She's gone. She was right; I am covered in blood. Hers. I buried her body where she fell; now as then, I tried to find the best stone for her. Her place is marked should anyone wish to find it. Dust returns to dust; death returns to death.

The cold air chills hot tears and hotter blood; even now, I feel the second cut joining the first, branding forever my status as killer. There is nothing left for me; I traded something great for an empty box, and I am left to gather the ashes of my life inside of it.

I have no doubts that the new world we dreamed of will come to pass. But this sword will not be a part of it. I can't risk it, not now, not ever. How can I? Every time I unsheath this monster, it takes something dear to me. My impetuousness to wield it for the Ishin Shishi ostracized me from my master; killing for that bright future destroyed any innocence I had left; in trying to rescue her, I destroyed her instead.

She told me not to cry; that it was... that it was better this way. How can it be? The light of the sun is extinguished; the pale, cold glow of the moon remains. Death was my trade, and should have been my lot; I live, but die at the same time. She who was life, on the other hand, is gone.

I take a look at the sword. For the first time in years, it is not a part of me; rather, it is a parasite, leeching the life from me. Tomoe saw that, saw what it was doing to me, and stayed anyway, somehow seeing something worth preserving behind the cruel force of nature. I cannot wield it again; it is disgusting to me.

There is no 'new beginning' to this war. There will be none for me; there can be none for Tomoe, or the countless others who watered the streets with their blood. The fruits of this new revolution - the benefits of the new world I fought for - will never live up to the cost of its fruition. This is the end, now and for all time. The world may come, but it will not be the world I sought. I buried that world last night - and my heart with it.

I don't know if I will follow her to oblivion; all I know is that I don't care anymore. My reason to fight is gone; I just want it over with. If death comes, I will welcome it.

Because... the dead, unlike the survivors, get the opportunity to forget.

************

Two people I need to thank: Krista, for getting me into this Tomoe arc, and to Ed, who understands the wish to forget, and for his willingness to pass on such dark wisdom. Also thanks to andrew Norris and janet for their comments.

Initially posted September 17, 1999

Sent to fanfiction dot net March 17, 2010


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